


A Matter of Convenience

by Lumelle



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, M/M, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: Lestrade is upset due to his custody problems. Mycroft decides to help.It's all Sherlock's fault, anyway.





	A Matter of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I made Lestrade's ex pretty terrible here, but lbr what little we know of her in canon isn't exactly wonderful.

This was all Sherlock’s fault, of course.

Now, being the annoying little brother he was, Sherlock would have no doubt claimed he was incapable of affecting Mycroft’s life anymore, given his own deceased status. And, as usual, Sherlock would have been wrong. Really, affecting Mycroft’s life even from beyond the grave only made his offense that much worse.

If anything, the effect should have been the opposite. After all, being so shaken by the loss of Sherlock only underlined the fact that caring was a disadvantage. Yet clearly Mycroft was not entirely beyond such weakness even with Sherlock gone, or he would have never considered getting involved with something so very human.

“You are distressed.” Mycroft wasn’t sure why he was even bringing this up. It was entirely unimportant to the situation, after all, and only fit to prolong this already somewhat uncomfortable interaction.

“What gave it away?” Lestrade snorted, though the tension did not escape him. “The fact we’re trying to figure out why your brother decided to top himself?”

“Not quite, and I will thank you not to describe it in such glib terms.” Mycroft frowned. “I can list out all the reasons I think you are under stress in your personal life, or you can simply admit to it. I will let you make the choice.”

“Why would you care?” Lestrade sounded more tired than annoyed, which really only reinforced Mycroft’s initial assessment. “It’s not going to affect my actual work or whatever errands you have me running for you. So, just give it a rest.”

“First, I find it highly unlikely you would be able to work at your full potential when it is painfully clear you have not had a proper night’s sleep in at least a week.” Mycroft lifted his eyebrows. “And second, you were one of a very small number of people Sherlock actually cared about in any significant capacity. As such, I do feel obligated to try to make sure you are not utterly miserable.”

“Funny. All too often it was Sherlock who made me so bloody miserable in the first place.”

“Fair.” Mycroft shrugged. “Would this have anything to do with your family situation?”

“Why do you even bother asking? You’ve probably got it all figured out better than me.” Lestrade sighed, running his hand over his face. “It’s… a mess. I mean, I’m probably better off without my ex, to be honest, but I’m not so sure the kids are happy with her. She’s always had her own opinions on what things should be like, and they’re no exception. The problem being, there’s no bloody way I’d ever get custody, with my job and everything.”

“Indeed.” It was nothing surprising, really. He might not have known the precise details, but this was all in line with what he had thought might be going on. “They are still quite young, as I recall. A single father in a hazardous, time-consuming job is not an ideal guardian.”

“No need to rub it in.” Lestrade grimaced. “Hell, I’m lucky I even get visits, and all too often those get cancelled because of work. At this rate the kids are going to forget I even exist.”

“Doubtful, but I understand your concern.” Mycroft hummed to himself. “Of course, if you were to provide a more stable environment, things might be easier to arrange.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to go out looking for someone to date just to use them as an excuse to get custody.” Lestrade shook his head. “Not that I’m exactly in the mood for dating any time soon.”

“I was not suggesting such a thing.” Please. As though he was going to encourage something so foolish. “However, if you indeed consider your children more important than romantic or sexual fulfilment, well. You do know someone who would be considered a stable influence.”

Lestrade frowned, taking a moment to catch up. Then, he blinked. “Wait. Are you suggesting I get in some sort of relationship of convenience with you?”

“Why not?” Mycroft tried not to be offended by the comment. “I am hardly the ideal partner, I’ll admit, but my house is big enough for several people to live there without getting in each other’s way. Furthermore, I have no intention of pursuing any actual relationships, and as such have no problem with committing myself to one. As long as you don’t expect me to actually be much of a parental figure or a romantic partner, I am perfectly willing to provide the illusion of stability on paper.”

“Why would you do that, though?” Lestrade seemed clueless, the poor man. “Even if you say it wouldn’t impact you much, it’s not that simple. You’re too smart to think it actually wouldn’t change your life, and you wouldn’t be getting anything out of it.”

“On the contrary. You were important to my brother, and as such, I wish to keep you at least functional.” Mycroft’s lips twitched. “Besides, I have no doubt the whole concept would make Sherlock rather unsettled, which is more than enough motivation for me.”

“You know, I don’t think I’m ever going to get how your relationship with him worked.” Lestrade paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied Mycroft. “…You’re actually serious.”

“I would not joke about such a thing.” For all that he wasn’t entirely sure why he was offering, beyond that Sherlock was clearly to blame. “Of course, I would not expect you to decide on such a thing instantly. As we are more or less done here, perhaps you’d like to consider until our next meeting?”

“At the moment I’m more concerned that I’m going to wake up from a bloody fever dream, but sure, I’ll think on your ludicrous idea.” Lestrade rolled his eyes, gathering up the documents they had been going over. “You’re still bonkers, though.”

Mycroft did have some manners. As such, he waited until Lestrade had actually left before informing Anthea about their plans. After all, it was already clear Lestrade was going to agree.

Really, he hoped Sherlock was ashamed for causing such a mess.

*

It was rather an understatement to say that Mycroft was not used to small children.

Really, the only specimen of such that he had spent any significant amount of time with had been Sherlock, and it was quite clear even to the most casual observer that his brother hadn’t exactly been a typical child. After Sherlock grew up, Mycroft had never been in a position to be around children, nor had he held any desire to change that situation.

Now, faced with two sets of inquisitive eyes on very small faces, he found himself more out of his depth than he ever had while negotiating with the most devious politicians.

“Do you really like Daddy?” The older child, a girl, gave him a suspicious gaze. He wasn’t sure someone should be quite that sharp-eyed at nine years old, but then he figured she probably would be rather worried about that after the fallout of her parents’ marriage.

“Of course I do.” It wasn’t even a lie, not really. He didn’t dislike Greg, clearly, he wouldn’t have ever suggested this otherwise, and he found Greg a much more tolerable companion than most of the general population. “You are Chloette, right? I have heard a lot about you from your father.” Most of his information came from his own investigations, but enough from Greg that this didn’t feel like a lie, either.

“Yup.” She narrowed her eyes. “…I’m not going to automatically like you just because you’re dating Daddy, just so you know.”

Greg was obviously about to say something, but Mycroft shook his head. “And I would not expect you to. After all, we are competitors of a sort, right? I hope that we can share some of your father’s time, though I’m sure you’ll always be his first priority.”

“Hm.” Her eyes narrowed further until she gave a stiff nod. “Fine. But you’d better not hurt Daddy, or I’ll — I’ll kick you!”

“Now, Chloe.” Greg frowned, cutting in before Mycroft could speak again. “Do we threaten people with violence?”

“…No.” She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “But! He still shouldn’t hurt you!”

“Of course not. And that is certainly not my intention, but I realize you do not know me yet, and have no reason to trust me. However, I do hope to earn your trust over time.” Mycroft put on a mild smile. “I’m glad Greg has someone so fierce looking out for him.”

“You’d better remember it.” Chloette was still glaring at him, but at least she didn’t seem quite so openly hostile anymore. “I won’t let you be mean to Daddy! And not to Louis, either!”

As much as he was trying not to analyze too much, Mycroft couldn’t help but muse that it was probably not usual for a child to be worried that an adult would do harm to their sibling. Judging by the way Greg tensed ever so slightly, clearly he agreed and this wasn’t just some paranoid trait of Chloette’s. Even so, Mycroft managed a smile, turning his gaze to the smaller child half hiding behind Chloette. “Ah, yes, Louis. You will be six soon, right?” Five days, eleven months, four days. Of course he knew his facts. Still, getting too precise would probably be rather unusual.

Louis nodded shyly, still seeking refuge from his sister. “My birthday’s next month!”

“He’s my big boy,” Greg said, pride evident in his voice. “Soon he’ll be taller than his old dad.”

Mycroft nodded, surveying the tiny child who barely came up to Greg’s hip. “I can see that. It’s good to meet you, Louis.”

“…Um.” Apparently this interaction had eaten up all the child’s social capabilities, as he fell silent again. Well, that was fine. If there was something Mycroft could understand, it was being socially awkward.

“Well! Since the introductions have been handled for the moment, I do believe we were supposed to go out to eat.” Mycroft made a show of looking over at Greg, as though this wasn’t all carefully planned in advance. “What were we planning on?”

“You know, I was thinking we should be casual for a first meeting and all.” Greg grinned, a rather sincere expression. “How’d you kids feel about burgers?”

This suggestion was welcomed with some delight, which Mycroft had to admit was something of a relief. At least Chloette wasn’t actively glaring at him anymore.

Of course, he was rather convinced Greg’s motivation for his choice of restaurant was only half due to the children’s preferences and half because he was curious to see Mycroft dealing with fast food, but he supposed the man was allowed his amusement. Mycroft for his part was going to do his best to eat whatever greasy mess was presented to him with the utmost propriety, and if that ultimately failed, he would consider it a point in his efforts to humanize himself in front of the children.

After all, how could they hope to survive being a family some day if they couldn’t even handle some ketchup stains?

*

It had never occurred to Mycroft that his house could be seen as rather large for just one person.

Not that he used most of the rooms anyway, but at least he had a theoretical function for everything. There was a library here and a study there, a sitting room he never actually sat in, everything meticulously furnished and decorated and left abandoned. Now he was surveying everything with fresh eyes thanks to Greg’s company, and was almost startled to realize just how easy it was to find spaces that could be repurposed.

“You really don’t mind giving up all this space?” Greg was looking around in yet another dimly lit, book-filled room, no doubt imagining it with bright colors and better lighting. “I don’t want us to be intruders.”

“Nonsense.” Mycroft shook his head. “I barely even remembered this room exists. I suspect nobody but my cleaner has set foot inside in years. I am not giving up anything of value.”

“Well, if you’re sure, I’m not going to argue.” Greg walked over to the window. “Louis would love this alcove.”

“Then this will be his room.” Mycroft nodded. “Ah, that reminds me. I am rather ignorant in the matter of child-appropriate furnishings, so I will need you to make a list of everything that will be needed to prepare the rooms. Do not concern yourself with the budget, I will cover the costs.”

That earned him a frown. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I am the one who suggested this arrangement in the first place. I would hardly expect you to foot the bill for my ideas, particularly given the fact that I am more financially comfortable.”

“Still. This is my kids, I should be the one to provide for them.”

“I’m going to be their stepfather, correct? It is only right that I do my part, then. Besides, I was hardly unaware that children bring additional costs, particularly in the beginning. I had always planned on this.” Mycroft shook his head. “I hardly have a lot of expenses in my private life. My wealth won’t do anyone any good gathering dust on my bank account, so I would rather actually accomplish something with it instead.”

For a moment Greg was quiet, staring at him. Then, he sighed. “How are you even bloody real?”

Mycroft allowed himself a wry smile. “No doubt you will soon find yourself hoping for a partner who is less supportive financially and more of an actual, well, partner. This is more or less the only contribution I am capable of, so please allow me to do this much.”

“Bloody hell. People are definitely going to think I’m marrying you just for the money.”

“Well.” Mycroft snorted. “I do occasionally have to attend formal events where a spouse would be expected to make an appearance. Perhaps this is all just a devious scheme on my part to secure myself a trophy husband.”

“If it means my kids are safe and happy and provided for? I’ll bite my tongue and play nice with the worst of them.” The interesting thing was, Greg obviously meant every word. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation, though?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Mycroft arched his eyebrows. “Because it seems I tempted myself an attractive partner with my wealth alone?”

“Nah, I doubt that’s exactly a rare thing in your circles.” And, well. It wasn’t like Mycroft could deny that. “Having a male spouse, though? I bet that’s still pretty uncommon.”

“Oh, please.” Mycroft shook his head, leading the way to the next room they were going to check out. “I’m a middle-aged, wealthy man with no past relationships that anyone knows of. People are simply going to be relieved that I am discovered to be with a man and not a boy.”

“That’s a bit cynical, don’t you think?”

“I prefer the term astute.” Mycroft hummed to himself, opening the next long-neglected door. “What about yourself? You are not concerned about your own reputation?”

“Eh, not like they can fire me for it, and that’s what I really care about. Besides, if anyone actually went digging, they would find out this isn’t my first time being involved with a bloke, anyway.” Mycroft could practically feel sharp eyes at the back of his head as he stepped further into the room, examining the heavy curtains. They would definitely have to go, this was simply not suitable for a child’s bedroom. “You did, didn’t you?”

“I did want to make sure you would not react too negatively to my initial suggestion. Still, past proclivities do not necessarily mean you would be comfortable with having it be obvious. It seemed prudent to make sure there would be no problem, particularly since we will likely have to give the impression of reciprocated affection at times.”

“Honestly? I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an easier time with that than you.” Greg glanced up. “With ceilings this high, Chloe could actually have that loft bed she’s been wanting without hitting her head all the time.”

“I can assure you I will have no problem with casual displays affection, though we probably should agree upon some basic boundaries.” Mycroft paused in thought. “We will probably have to share a bedroom. To do otherwise would not reflect well on our relationship in the eyes of anyone hoping to judge whether this is a safe environment for children.”

“That a problem for you?”

“If it were, I would have taken that into account much earlier in the process.” He shook his head. “You know, you can stop prodding me about everything. This will not be easy, but I can promise I will not go back on my word and rob you of this opportunity to bring your children home. As long as you can stand my less than pleasant traits in our daily life, you can have my home and my name as needed.”

There was silence for a moment, enough so that Mycroft turned to go to leave Greg to his thoughts. Then, however, he heard a quiet voice. “Still not sure if any of this is real, but I’ll try not to poke too much, in case I wake up.”

And really, there was nothing Mycroft could say to counter that.

*

This was never supposed to be about emotions.

Well, obviously Greg was rather emotional about the whole thing, but that was never supposed to be the point for Mycroft. He was only doing this to support those his brother had cared for, and if that meant occasionally giving the impression of affection, he could work around it. Nobody expected him to be very expressive, anyway.

As it happened, it didn’t seem to be in the Lestrade nature to do things as expected.

Greg was one thing. The human mind was easily tricked, and as such, it was only to be expected that he would come to feel affection for someone who was constantly giving the impression of such to him. Perhaps it wasn’t the great love story they were playing at, but after meeting each other almost daily and quite literally working to tie their lives together, it was hardly a surprise that Mycroft would find himself feeling somewhat soft towards him.

No, the true surprise were the children. He had only met them a few times by now, and heard a lot more about them from Greg. Still, by some long-lost memory of Sherlock or some other strange factor, he found himself genuinely looking forward to their visits.

It didn’t make sense. They had already agreed that Mycroft would not be expected to be a parental figure beyond what was natural by nature of being an adult in the same household. There was no reason why he would do otherwise, when it would clearly inconvenience him to do so. Children were a bother at best and a pain at worst, and Mycroft had thought he would be quite happy to simply fade into the background while Greg and his children built a new, happier life for themselves without the shadow of his ex-wife haunting their every day.

Spending his precious afternoon off looking for the perfect teddy bear to finish decorating Louis’s room had never been in the plans. And yet here he was, not only comparing soft toys but also wondering if he should get something for Chloette as well, lest he be considered unfair.

“Can I help you?” The salesperson walked up to him with a slightly nervous smile. Mycroft supposed he wasn’t exactly the typical client in such an establishment.

“Ah, I certainly hope so.” He gave her a mild smile. “I am looking for presents for my new stepchildren. They are going to have their first overnight visit this weekend, so I thought it would be good to have something nice waiting for them.”

“Right! Right, of course. What ages are you looking for? Girls or boys?”

“Ah. A girl, nine years old, though she doesn’t really go for the typically feminine sports. I believe she enjoys football and videogames, and her favorite color is yellow. The other is a boy, six years old, and likes stuffed toys and music. Ah, and he likes purple. I was hoping to find a teddybear for him, but I’m rather clueless when it comes to his sister.”

“Well, I’m sure we can find something for her.” Her smile relaxed a little, as she no doubt came to the conclusion he was clueless but unlikely to yell at her. “Also, did you check the back aisle yet? We have more stuffed animals there, and the color selection is wider. This area has the more realistic ones, but a younger child might prefer something more exciting. We also carry various licensed toys based on children’s videogames.”

“No, I don’t believe I did. That sounds excellent.” Mycroft nodded. “Perhaps you could also correct me if I’m about to buy something game-related that she isn’t likely to have heard of?”

By the time Mycroft excited the store, not only did he have two stuffed toys but also a gaming console and a game to go with it, just in case it was not something Chloe was familiar with. Perhaps he had gone a bit overboard, but it wasn’t like he could afford it, and he did want to do his best rather than simply performing empty gestures. The salesperson had indeed been very helpful, which was why he decided to pull a few strings to make sure she got the promotion she clearly deserved.

He was halfway home when he realized he was rather hoping to see the children’s reactions himself. Huh. That sounded rather emotional indeed.

*

For a brief, fleeting moment Greg wondered if his ex-wife hadn’t agreed to weekday visits just to scare him off the idea of trying to see the kids more often. Granted, it was the best option when he knew he would be stuck at work all weekend, but he was pretty sure this was even more chaotic than the typical school morning had been before they separated.

“I hate you!” Right, perhaps Chloe yelling at him had something to do with him feeling rather overwhelmed.

“I’m trying my best, sweetie.” Greg held up the brush and scrunchies he was holding as though hoping to calm her down. “This would be easier if you actually told me what you want.”

“I don’t care. You’re just going to do it wrong anyway!” Chloe all but stomped her foot.

“Well, would you rather do it yourself?” He was starting to feel rather frustrated, for all that he was trying not to show it. “I’m afraid all I can offer are ponytails.”

“No! I don’t want any of that!” Chloe’s voice was getting higher, and Greg’s frustration was edging towards hopelessness. This was when Mycroft walked in, adjusting his shirt sleeves.

“What seems to be the problem?” Bless Mycroft, ever calm and collected.

“Apparently I’m not suited for hair duty.” Greg sighed. “She won’t even let me brush her hair.”

“You do it all wrong!” Chloe pouted. “All the girls in my class are going to make fun of me for looking stupid!”

“Well, if they do that, they are the stupid ones. But perhaps I could help?” Mycroft reached his hand for the brush. “It’s been a while, but I was in charge of brushing Sherlock’s hair for a while, and I like to think my hands are rather clever at fine work.”

“You don’t have to —” Greg started, only to be interrupted by Chloe.

“Fine! You can’t do it any worse.” Chloe harrumphed, snatching the brush from Greg and handing it over to Mycroft.

“I’m sure your father would have done just fine, but I’ll fill in best I can.” Mycroft reached for the scrunchies. “Greg? I do believe Louis was trying to find his school jacket. You wouldn’t happen to know where it went last night, would you?” Mycroft no doubt knew precisely where to find everything, but Greg knew an easy out when he saw one.

By the time he had Louis all ready for school, Mycroft had somehow transformed Chloe’s bed head into a rather polished pair of pigtails. Chloe still didn’t look thrilled about the whole debacle, but at least she seemed to accept this. Greg inched up to Mycroft.

“How did you manage that?”

“YouTube tutorials.” The problem with Mycroft was, Greg had no idea if he was being serious or not. “Also, I had a few words with her.”

“Oh?” Greg frowned. “I mean, it’s not her fault I can’t do her hair like her mom.”

“Oh, I wasn’t scolding her. Rather, I was enquiring as to the proper reasons behind all this.” Mycroft sighed, his already low voice dropping further, no doubt to make sure the children didn’t overhear. “Apparently, her main problem is that she doesn’t want such girly looks at all, but her mother won’t let her cut her hair short.”

“Right, that sounds about right.” Greg sighed. “They’ve been butting heads over it pretty much ever since Chloe could speak for herself. Apparently my ex-wife always wanted a little girl to dress up, and Chloe doesn’t really fit that mold.”

“Clearly not.” Mycroft paused. “I’m taking her for a haircut the day you get primary custody.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Greg sighed. “…Thanks. I really couldn’t handle all this on my own.”

“I’m sure you would be able to, but I can fill in here and there.” Mycroft touched his arm. “Now let’s see them both off to school, hmm?”

He was still not entirely sure his ex wasn’t just turning this whole thing into some cruel scheme, but at least he wasn’t facing it all alone.

*

The last thing Greg needed at a bloody murder scene was a commotion.

He’d hoped they could mostly focus on work, since for once there weren’t a lot of curious people ogling the scene. Instead, though, he caught sight of someone very familiar standing right beyond the tape, with one of his officers trying to get his attention. At another look, he realized why he would be called over.

“Mycroft?” Greg frowned, walking closer. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, not really. I was merely stopping by to see what sort of a case you got yourself stuck with.” Mycroft sniffed, glancing around the scene. “I assume you won’t be done on time to pick up the children.”

Greg froze, then sighed. “Shit. Yeah, no, that’s not happening.” And here he’d been hoping things could actually get better at some point. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Mycroft shook his head. “I will get them. You settle things here and get home when you can.”

“Right. I… thanks. Really.” Greg ran a hand over his face, feeling terribly tired. “Tell the kids I’m sorry?”

“Of course.” And then, because Mycroft was utterly ridiculous, he actually took Greg’s hand and brought it up to his lips. Greg was no blushing maiden, yet he felt rather flustered by the small kiss to his hand. “Be safe.”

“Always.” Which was not a promise he could truly guarantee to keep, but he could at least try. Greg nodded at Mycroft, watching him walk away swinging that ever-present umbrella of his. As he turned around to face his people again, they were all staring at him. Well, then.

“Wasn’t that the freak’s brother?” Ah, trust Donovan to always be ever so sensitive.

“That was Mycroft Holmes, yes. Who also happens to be my fiancé, so mind your manners.” At least Donovan had the decency to look a bit embarrassed at that.

“Wait. Fiancé?” And yeah, things were very sad when Anderson was the first one to catch on. “You’re going to marry him?”

“That tends to be the intention of engagement, yes.” Greg rolled his eyes. “Now let’s get back to work, yeah? Unless you’d want to waste some more time criticizing my love life.”

That sent everyone moving, and Greg rolled his eyes before returning to work. A moment later he felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. Digging it out, he wasn’t terribly surprised to see a text from Mycroft.

_‘Make sure to check the stairwell. The footsteps outside suggest someone chipped their heel, and I would imagine only someone in a hurry to get away would try to walk like that. - M’_

Well. Clearly it was useless to think his work would be free of any Holmes influence.

Perhaps that wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

*

The wedding, such as there was one, was a very quiet affair.

It was hardly a surprise. Mycroft didn’t exactly have a large social circle, and neither of them wanted to make a big fuss. Still, it was only proper to have some level of ceremony to it, particularly since they were hoping to prove that Greg could provide a stable environment for the children.

The actual paperwork didn’t take too long, a simple civil affair on an ordinary weekday. Greg seemed somewhat uncomfortable, though Mycroft was rather convinced that was mostly due to his unusually formal attire. Not that it was a bad thing, of course; he looked actually rather charming in a fine three-piece suit.

“I feel ridiculous,” Greg murmured as they walked out, tugging at his collar.

“Really, now? I wouldn’t think it’s very different from what you wear to any press conference.”

“Sure it’s different. I can handle a simple suit and tie. This getup? This is for fancy people. You know, people like you.”

“Well, you’ll probably have to join me for some fancy events sooner or later. Though don’t worry, I try my best to avoid such occasions as much as possible.” Mycroft managed a small smile. “After all, it wouldn’t do for me to show up without my handsome husband at my arm, right?”

“I suppose.” Greg’s lips twitched. “As long as you don’t expect me to dress all fancy otherwise.”

“I think we both agreed not to expect either of us to change for the sake of this marriage.” Though Mycroft rather suspected he had already started to change, but that was not Greg’s fault. He supposed he could still blame Sherlock, considering this was clearly his well-suppressed emotions trying to fill the vacuum left by his brother’s absence. “Now, shall we go get the children so we can take them to dinner to celebrate?” After all, while this didn’t change much in their daily life, it still seemed appropriate to include the children even in their rather unceremonious approach.

“Sounds like a plan.” Greg shook his head. “Honestly, I’m still not sure how he managed to convince my ex-wife to let them visit today of all days. I half expected her to make up all sorts of excuses just to spite me.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why I told her we’d set the date for the day before yesterday.” Greg’s eyes widened in an almost comical manner. “Oh, please. Being devious and manipulative is literally what I do for a living.”

“And here I was thinking it was being super smart.” Greg sighed. “So, have you planned on dinner somewhere awfully fancy, or can I change out of this thing?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll stop by the house before getting the children. We’ve made a show of things, and I’m sure Anthea has already secured a decent picture for any announcements we’ll want to make.”

“Anthea? I didn’t see — you know what, I probably don’t want to know.” Ah, clearly Greg was learning. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going to eat.”

“Well, since this is our way of celebrating with the children, I actually took the liberty of asking them the last time they were over. Apparently they both agreed that the fast food place we visited the first time I met them was their favorite, and while that may simply be their lack of knowledge of other alternatives, I see no reason to disagree.” Greg went very quiet for some reason. After a moment of waiting for him to speak, Mycroft turned to look at him. “What is it?”

“Just… wondering.” Greg shook his head. “I never thought a fancy guy like you would want to eat greasy burgers on your wedding day just because the kids aren’t into fancy restaurants.”

“I can eat at such places whenever I wish. When our meetings with the children are still rather sporadic, it is much more important to consider their comfort during those times.”

Greg was quiet again. Finally he spoke, sounding awfully serious. “You know, when you said you weren’t going to get involved in parenting, I expected, I don’t know. You not getting all parental.”

Mycroft should have protested, really he should have. However, instead he found himself shaking his head. “I thought we would have established by now that the lines of Holmes and Lestrade produce rather surprising results when forced to interact. And I would like to point out I still cannot guarantee my attempts at being parental will be in any way successful.”

“Oh, please.” Greg grinned now, and somehow, it was a rather charming look. “We both know that when you try to do something, you make damn sure to get great at it.”

Mycroft should have pointed out how horribly he had failed at being a brother, but really, there was no need to ruin such an important day.

*

It wasn’t that Greg didn’t expect his kids to be happy to see him, but he was rather shocked to find Louis literally running to him in tears the moment they got inside.

“Hey, what’s wrong, buddy?” He looked up to see Mycroft and Chloe following the boy into the kitchen. “You know what’s going on?” Judging by the sniffles, Louis wasn’t exactly up to deep discussion just yet.

“I’m afraid I have no insights to offer.” Mycroft sighed, and if he was truly that clueless, that was probably not a good thing. “He has been miserable ever since I picked them up, but hasn’t said a word.”

“Chloe?” She was frowning, too, but somehow he didn’t think that had anything to do with him or Mycroft. She was carrying both her own weekend bag and Louis’s, letting them both fall to the floor. “You have any insights?”

For a moment he thought Chloe was going to be quiet, but then she sighed. “She’s been horrible to him all week.”

“Oh?” Greg frowned, looking down at Louis’s bowed head. “How so?” He knew his ex wasn’t the most wonderful mother, but he was pretty sure he’d never seen Louis so miserable.

“She keeps saying he’s not acting manly enough and he’s going to grow up all useless.” Chloe folded her arms, or maybe she was hugging herself. It was hard to tell with that expression, half angry and half miserable. “And — and that being around you is just going to be worse, since you’re… you know.”

“Because we are not straight, huh.” Which was the easiest way to put it, really, since he didn’t want to get into the complexities of bisexuality and even less whatever Mycroft was. Probably some sort of asexual? It would certainly fit the pattern of, well, everything. “Well, that’s just nonsense. Whatever way you like to be is fine, and nobody gets to tell you what you should like or do just because you’re a boy or whatever.”

“I do have to agree.” Mycroft nodded in agreement. “I know this is hardly a big comfort, considering how she tried to use us as negative examples, but I certainly consider myself to eb a man. I also enjoy music, books, and beautiful things, and I have never felt any draw to athletic pursuits. None of that makes me any less of a man.”

“Yup, I can confirm.” Greg glanced up at Mycroft. They hardly had that almost-telepathic link that some old couples seemed to develop, but Mycroft was great at reading people and Greg wasn’t exactly as good at hiding his thoughts as he probably should have been. He tried to put a question into his eyes, and Mycroft nodded. “Actually, there was something we were hoping to talk to you guys about over the weekend. I suppose we should just bring it up right now.”

“Oh?” Chloe frowned, looking dubious. The poor thing. She was clearly protective of her brother, and she shouldn’t have been worrying about such things at her age. “And what’s that?”

“Don’t panic, but this is going to be your last weekend visit here.” Louis drew away from the hug just to give him a wide-eyed, slightly panicked look, and Greg hurried to elaborate. “Not because we don’t want you around! It’s actually quite the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe seemed awfully hopeful all of a sudden. Luckily he could actually give her the answer she wanted.

“We just got the final word from the court yesterday.” Greg hugged Louis a little bit closer. “I’ve been granted primary custody.”

“Which means that as soon as everything gets sorted out, you’re going to live here, with us. Permanently.” Mycroft actually put on one of his rare smiles. “We didn’t tell you earlier because we couldn’t say anything for sure, but now that we’re certain, you deserve to know.”

For a moment Chloe just stared at Greg, then turned his gaze to Mycroft. Then, all of a sudden, she spun around and hugged Mycroft so tight, the poor man probably had his air squeezed out of him. Mycroft seemed awfully surprised, but relaxed soon enough, setting a hand on her hair.

“Which means that you, young lady, are going to need a haircut.” Mycroft’s voice was awfully gentle for someone so no-nonsense, and Greg was pretty sure his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

Well. That was something unexpected, but probably not bad at all.

*

Mycroft hadn’t expected to truly get used to the constant presence of others, yet somehow, that seemed to be the reality of his current life. He still had his personal study to retreat to when he needed some peace and quiet, and he did often take advantage of that, yet even more often he found himself seated right in the middle of the life and noise of a family. The kids had still been somewhat careful at first, no doubt unsure that this was in fact a permanent state of affairs, but now that they had been living there for several months they’d gotten past such reservations. As it turned out, this meant being loud and even arguing at times, and yet, Mycroft was growing used to that, too.

At the moment he was enjoying a rare quiet moment in the living room, reading a book in the corner of the couch. It was almost entirely silent around him, save for the quiet murmur of whatever TV show Greg was watching next to him. The kids had settled in their rooms already, leaving them to enjoy some rare grown-up time.

The TV show cut to a commercial break, and Greg sighed, stretching out his arms. “Well, I think I’m going to get a cup of coffee. You want anything?”

“I wouldn’t say no to some tea.” Mycroft lifted his eyebrow, but allowed himself a faint smile. “Also, I’m not sure you should be drinking coffee so late in the evening.”

“Oh, please. I think we both know I’ve basically got bad station coffee in my veins by now. A cup of actually nice coffee’s not going to hurt my sleep.” Greg stood up with another stretch of his arms. “Anything else?”

“No, I’m good with just the tea, thanks.”

“Got it.” Greg leaned down, and before Mycroft realized what was going on, he found a light kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth. Mycroft was momentarily stunned, enough so that Greg had the time to turn away and take a couple of steps before he froze as well. “Wait. Did I just…”

“I do believe you did.” Mycroft drew a deep breath, quickly going through all the various outcomes of this scenario. He couldn’t guarantee a successful end to the tale, no matter what the calculations, but — well. With Sherlock gone, someone in the family had to make the risky choices. “Perhaps we can speak about it in more detail once we both have something warm to drink?”

Greg looked over his shoulder, blinking for a moment. Then, he smiled, his eyes lighting up with realization. “I suppose we can do that, yes.”

Perhaps it was a risk, but at the moment, Mycroft was rather hopeful about his chances. Besides, perhaps caring wasn’t the disadvantage he’d once thought it to be. He certainly felt his life was better now that he actually had someone waiting for him to get home, and if that was a weakness, he was willing to bear that risk for his family.

(If nothing else, it meant that when Sherlock decided to saunter back into their lives like he hadn’t been assumed dead for years, Mycroft still managed to be the one with the bigger surprise. And really, if petty squabbles in revenge for hurt and heartbreak wasn’t the very essence of family, Mycroft didn’t know what was.)


End file.
